


Halloween Playlist

by adelindschade



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Halloween, Halloween fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 11:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelindschade/pseuds/adelindschade
Summary: With October around the corner, Halloween festivities are coming soon! Started with just a general song with some witchy puns - but got more Fall festive throughout.Here are some prompts / short stories inspired by Halloween favorites, puns, and other close-to-home songs that relate to the Grimm gang. Lots of antics, fun, good times, fluff, and all around leisure read.





	Halloween Playlist

Adalind didn’t have many good memories of her mother, not really, but there were a few she clung on to. It was a coping mechanism, to cling onto the hope that – maybe, deep down – there was something genuine and uncorrupted between mother and daughter.

_The First Wives Club_ was one of those movies that bonded the two. It was her mother’s favorite.

Adalind could recall being fourteen years old, onto sixteen, recalling those beloved movie nights where her mother would take her hand to parade around the kitchen.

_“No, no, you don’t own me!”_ Her mother belted along to the final song sequence.

Though she had two left feet, Adalind did her best to trail along.

The two were quite theatrical – plucking their heels up from the closet, along with their fanciest coats (her mother’s fur and Adalind’s baby blue wrap). It was the very few times the blonde could recall a moment not soured by her mother’s narcissistic tendencies. 

The tradition stuck even in college – when Adalind would nurse her loneliness with a movie binge. _The First Wives Club_ would always make the queue and though the temptation to reconnect with her mother spiked as it neared the end, she resisted and opted to celebrate the final sequence to her own accordance.

Twenty-some year old Adalind would collect her robe and blitz from one bed to the other, singing along with the three iconic women.

“_I don’t tell you what to say! I don’t tell you what to do! So just let me be myself! That’s all I ask of you!_” She’d sing (probably, err, most certainly off key).

She lost the tape somewhere – and then the DVD – and somewhere in the mix, forgot about it altogether.

She was overjoyed to find it on her Netflix queue – and you bet she played it without hesitation. Diana was nine then, blissfully unaware she’d become the third generation to participate in a Schade-women tradition.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Diana exclaimed in between light-hearted laughter. She was miffed when her mother cloaked her with a familiar red coat. Adalind donned her white wrap in a similar fashion, swaying freely around the kitchen island.

“Mom!” Diana screamed delightfully when her mother pulled out a chair to stand atop it, not missing a lyric.

Poor Kelly – the boy blindsided and scurried out of the way to watch from a safe distance. He peaked from the hallway and then steered towards a shadow behind him.

“Dad,” Kelly mumbled, “Mommy is loud.”

“I heard,” Nick chuckled. His eyes fixated on the elder blonde strutting to the rhythm, waving her arms freely. Diana shadowed, bouncing along like her mother.

Diana was a quick study and repeated the chorus with impressive memory. The women swished around the counter, ignorant of their growing audience.

Adalind spied her husband from her left; he raised a brow, intrigued and pleasantly surprised. She didn’t miss a beat and continued to serenade, pointing at him purposely.

“_I'm young and I love to be young! I'm free and I love to be free! To live my life the way I want, to say and do whatever I please!_”

“Duly noted,” Nick nodded with a grin.

Diana spun blissfully.

Nick took a mental snapshot of the blondes, delighted at the moment. He would’ve taken a video if it wasn’t for the fact the montage lasted no more than a minute and half and he didn’t want to miss a second by running down the hall to snatch his phone.

If _the First Wives Club_ was her first favorite, _Beetlejuice_ had a special place in her heart because of how much Diana adored it.

Her daughter discovered it on her own and shared it with her younger brother as a means to pass time on a rainy, Thursday night.

The upbeat tune stirred both kids up, but Diana was especially, who did her damnedest to replicate young Wynona Ryder by the staircase. Though she wasn’t as successful in lifting herself up, her brother was a reluctant volunteer to being levitated. Diana climbed up halfway to be of similar height, rocking her shoulders and rolling her arms accordingly to the trumpets blaring.

_“Shake, shake, shake Senora! (Clap, clap, clap, clap!) Shake your body line! Work, work, work Senora! (Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp!) Work it all the time! Dance, dance, dance Senora! (Clap, clap, clap, clap!) Dance it all the time!_ _Work, work, work Senora! (Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp!) Work it all the time!” _

They got away with it the first two times – before Nick walked in on them on the third, horrified to find his son airborne six or so feet off the ground. He yelled for him to be grounded but was no match for Diana’s deafening music.

Adalind distracted him by grabbing his hand, pulling him close to a waltz, and teetered to the jazzy beat from one end of the hall. Nick was disgruntled at first but, as much as he objected, everyone knew he was fond of the fun time. It became obvious when he stopped resisting and simply sighed whenever the tune blared from the speakers, knowing why his kids suddenly lurched out of their chairs and towards the stairs.

One defeated look at the humored blonde and Adalind welcomed him with an outstretched hand.

“If you can’t beat them, join them!” she cheered, swaying from left to right. He obliged, taking her hand and using his other to cup around her waist.

“The blinds!” Adalind warned the kids.

“Got it!” Diana replied urgently, not sparing a wink when the heavy fabrics closed together with a sharp swish.

“_Okay! I believe you!_” Adalind sang off key, throwing her head back happily as Nick took the lead. He took the liberty to dip her and they resumed to step around the furniture, not caring if the music was so loud it was a matter of time before the neighbors made a complaint.

“This is not normal,” Nick laughed when he eyed the kids.

“This is our normal!” Adalind amended affectionately.

“I suppose so,” Nick agreed in a similar attitude. 

When Monroe and Rosalee heard it as they prepped for Halloween, they were alarmed by the quick response.

“Does she…?” Monroe posed the question, mimicking the dance. His eyes flittered to Diana who mamboed out of the kitchen.

“Yep,” Nick exaggerated with a slow nod.

Rosalee and Adalind followed suit, tangoing out into the living room. The curtains closed with a swift snap as they did. Nick sighed and exited from his chair, trailing behind the women and pointing to the staircase out of view with a sharp eye.

“Don’t drop him!” he warned.

“Never!” Diana replied out of sight.

“Monroe!” Rosalee gestured eagerly. Nick had intercepted the pair, leading Adalind away in a dance of their own. She spun her hips along to the song.

Monroe grinned wildly. That was his cue.

The actual Halloween party that followed suit was huge hit – with Hank hooting at the infamous sight and Wu too boozed up to keep up with the rhythm, preferring to watch and encourage with an occasional thumbs up. Bud was amazed – levitating teens? A Grimm and Hexenbiest keeping tempo with impressive footwork?? How anyone had any hearing left???

“Hey Dad!” Kelly burst. “You know this one!”

They had made a playlist – especially for Halloween. Nick wasn’t as enthusiastic about costumes – he never did dress up – but he enjoyed the musical festivities in between.

Kelly snapped twice as an organ scale played.

“_They’re creepy and their kooky_,” Kelly exaggerated, _“mysterious and spooky! They’re all together ooky! The Addams family!_”

“You are such dorks,” Nick tried his best to stay neutral, but a smile broke through.

“_Their house is a museum when people come to see them!_” Adalind joined, trailed by Rosalee with a bouquet. “_They really are a screaming, the Addams family!_”

“_Neat!_” Diana added.

“_Sweet!_” Rosalee seconded.

“_Petite_,” Nick deadpanned – looking straight at Adalind. She stuck her tongue out ‘maturely’.

“_So put a witch’s shawl on,_” Monroe emerged from the foyer, towing a pumpkin. “_A broomstick you can crawl on! We’re gonna play a call on the Addams family!_”

“Hey! That’s my part!” Nick objected.

“You’ve already hit your limit for witch puns,” Diana pointed smugly.

“No,” Nick protested with a sour face. “The mugs don’t count.”

“What mugs?” Rosalee asked curiously.

“These mugs,” Adalind introduced a cabinet full of colorful mugs. “For the past seven years, he’s been collecting them.”

“You say that as if you don’t have a favorite,” Nick accused – eyeing the white one.

“Oh my…” Rosalee burst into laughter as she examined the front row. “_Witches got to stick together; Witch’s Brew; Witch, please!_ Nick, these are so corny! Which one is your favorite?”

“_Hocus Pocus, I need Coffee to Focus_,” Diana grinned.

“I hate Hocus Pocus – I like this one – _Not All Witches Live in Salem_,” Adalind mused.

“_You Say Witch like it’s a Bad Thing_,” Nick voiced.

“It was meant for me, but he drinks it more than I do,” Adalind sniggered.

_I Put a Spell on You_ was something Nick treasured. Nina Simone’s rendition wasn’t just part of their wedding, it was a song Nick would play to slow down the evening and spend some quality time with his wife. Especially when she got into it as much as he did.

His mind recalled the slow dance they shared in soft spot light that November night. The way her dress hugged her hips just right, how the top glistened under the lights, and how well she molded into him. While the dress was safely tucked away from any wear or tear, the fact she fit perfectly in his arms as they swayed slowly never changed.

Nine-out-of-ten, the dance didn’t end in the kitchen, and he could count on the mirth in her midnight blue eyes to continue another dance altogether upstairs. She could count on how his hand lingered over the small of her back that he had no innocent intentions.

There was something unearthly about the exchange. No words necessary – none at all. Just the two of them lost in the moment, thinking back on their wedding night, and all the more eager to replicate the enchanting evening that followed and then some.

_Practical Magic_ was a guilty pleasure of Adalind’s. It was one of those cliché romantic movies she would never admit aloud to liking – but Nick caught her too many times with her fixated on the screen. He knew it was a favorite of her and had put it play when she was sick or in a sour mood.

“_Well one more night I would like to lie and hold you, yes, and feel; to make you smile, I’d like to be there for you… Have you forgotten me?_” Adalind would hum softly to Stevie Nicks. “_Baby, don’t leave me… Ooh… Baby, don’t leave me…”_

There was one scene – you knew which one – where Sally chases after Gary, both trying to find the truth, leading to steamy climax of sexual tension. She always got butterflies from that heavy make-out but in retrospect, the relationship between the two seemed eerily familiar and she instinctively turned to Nick who was half-interested in the movie and more tuned to drawing patterns on her legs. 

She was more Gillian than Sally but no doubt, she somehow (proudly) broke her own family curse and earned herself the Gary she’s always romanticized.

She leaned on his shoulder, closing her eyes as he adjusted himself to anticipate her sleepy form. With her cheek resting on his chest, and his fingers combing her hair, she hummed contently and hooked her hands under his arms where they were pinned between strong back muscles and the couch cushions. Feet were tangled under the throw blanket.

“You’re missing the best part,” he teased, kissing the crown of her head.

“No, I’m not,” she argued confidently. “The best part is when they break the curse,” she supplied.

“Spoilers,” he humored.

“Sorry,” she played along. He watched it almost as many times she had.

Nick had no musical talent. The only art he was decent at came in the form of sketches. That didn’t stop him though.

“_I tried before to tell her_,” Nick mumbled along to the radio station, “_all the feelings I had for her in my heart… Every time I come near her, I just lose my nerve as I’ve done from the start!_” His fingers thumped along the wheel and he anticipated the jump of pace. “_Everything little thing she does is magic! Everything she does just turns me on! Even though my life before was tragic, now I know my love for her goes on!_”

That was before he proposed – before the wedding – and when it popped onto the radio, he knew he had to slide it into one of the dances.

He found himself humming it without realizing it. When doing dishes, when watching her from across the table, the bed, anywhere he found himself admiring the blonde completely ignorant of his mental serenade.

“What are humming?” she asked one day.

“Oh – I don’t know,” he feigned ignorance. He wanted it a surprise.

“Hmm,” she allowed but her eyes suspected something more.

Flashforward to the day of the wedding. The long, agonizingly wait was over and he still couldn’t get over the fact she said yes, that they were married – one of the biggest milestones he always aspired to mark – with this amazing little nuclear family he held so dear to his heart.

It was time for their first dance and his stomach flipped. Not because of anxiety or doubt but because, well, she was Adalind, dressed like a dream, and seemed to glow under the soft hued lights; he was absolutely, without a doubt, at her mercy.

“It’s the – it’s the song you were humming!” she recognized as they stepped in a small circle.

He uttered a deep laugh.

“It drove me crazy because it seemed familiar! I couldn’t remember where!” She playfully smacked his arm. “You planned this since – _oh wow_ – at least two years?!”

“I can keep a surprise,” he winked. Their noses met when he bowed his head down to meet her eyes.

“Couldn’t resist a good pun, could you?” she humored.

“Never,” he hasted the speed as the chorus repeated with an upbeat. She swung in a circle with a soft squeal, clinging to his shoulder when her feet lost touch with the floor.

She beamed and he knew he was goner when she threw her head back to laugh, unable to resist the chorus.

Months later in the car, when the song played again, he couldn’t resist dialing the volume up with the windows down. Adalind sat in the passenger seat, unapologetically mouthing along. Diana quirked a brow but was equally amused halfway through; as was her brother who tilted his head and rocked subtly.

It was speculated but never confirmed. Rosalee was a woman of her word though – too bad she, too, had taken too many glasses of wine and couldn’t be sure.

He tried to replicate the incident but Adalind never took the bait.

Diana stayed mum the entire time.

Nick didn’t pout but he was disappointed to have missed not just Adalind, Diana, and Eve gathering around the tabletop and belt _Defying Gravity_ with Rosalee and her daughter eager participants.

Until a very drunk twenty-year-old Diana was caught by her brother singing eccentrically to the musical, floating on a broomstick and all. Luckily, in the shelter of their own home surrounded by no one else but the cats.

“What!?” Diana squeaked when the clip was inserted into the family video collection.

Nick nearly cried, laughing to the point he was red in the face.

“At least someone has musical talent,” her mother shrugged.

“You’re dead!” Diana threatened Kelly.

“_You’re having delusions of grandeur_,” Kelly mimicked her words.

And Kelly had no problem teasing Diana about it, until she turned the tables, and obnoxiously sang it to the point he groaned at it’s mere mention. As for their mother… 

“Nope, not me,” Adalind declined.

“Why,” Nick whined.

“You won’t get me singing that high note without breaking glass and you won’t see me riding a broomstick or wearing that awful hat,” she decreed.

“Yet,” he challenged.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” she grinned.

“Do you know how frightening it is to come home to not one, two, or three, but all five of them singing _He Had it Coming?_” Monroe narrated with wide eyes.

“Oh – yes – all the time; it’s Adalind’s favorite part of the movie,” Nick nodded across the table.

“You don’t get weird murderous vibes from her when she gets into it?” Wu inquired.

“No more murderous than usual,” Nick shrugged. “I can handle it.”

“Rosalee was totally sucked in – the intensity was kind of terrifying,” Monroe mused with a quiver. “She pointed a knife at me. Having your wife say, “_he had it coming!_” while pointing a knife at you is like… top five worst things to walk in on.”

“I can’t complain,” Nick chuckled, recalling the night prior.

Adalind was theatrical – it was something that he thoroughly enjoyed. The last time she watched _Chicago_, she didn’t care if she was just in an oversized t-shirt – and the fact she was wearing just the t-shirt was Nick’s favorite part. He didn’t mind that she was basically glamorizing pre-meditated murder.

“You done yet?” he’d taunt the blonde from the bed.

“You interrupted my number!” She pouted.

“You still have a chance at Broadway, dear,” he patted her side of the bed. “Now you said something about spread eagle?”

Her mature response was to toss her makeshift mic / hairbrush at his head – and he had phenomenal reflexes.

“I’m going to count that as second degree,” he joked.

“Oh, please, I can get out of that charge,” she crossed her arms.

“I’m amiable to negotiations,” he perked a brow and he peeled back the covers on her side.

“Seducing the judge, jury, and executioner? Ugh, that seems like so much work,” she huffed.

“Nope – just me,” he grinned.

“Even more work!” she couldn’t resist smiling herself.

“If you keep resisting, I might just have to cuff you,” Nick toyed.

“Is that a promise?” she bit her lip.

It seemed to so stereotypical. The whole backyard was in full swing, decorated with elaborate scares and plenty of outdoor lighting. The porch was full of treats ranging from punch to themed sweets. Music was full swing, and everyone crowded onto the grassy area. The host supplied the fog machine, adding to effect.

“Come on!” Nick exasperated from the sidelines.

“How do you not know the _Thriller _dance?” Adalind laughed, matching Monroe step by step.

“Do all Wesen know this?” Nick questioned incredulously.

“Pretty much a must,” Rosalee laughed at his expense. “It’s a party favorite!”

“It’s not hard!” Bud assured.

Nick huffed and walked into the line next to Monroe, struggling to match their movements but trying nonetheless.

“I feel silly,” Nick groaned.

“You look silly,” Adalind shoved playfully.

“Not helping,” he sighed.

“Half of us are drunk anyways,” she cheered.

“No one will see or judge anyhow,” Monroe soothed.

They celebrated Halloween with Stevie Wonder.

Adalind refused to wear a tall buckled hat, unlike the very spirited Diana who was game for anything, but unlike Nick, didn’t mind dressing up.

“Happy Halloween Tinker Bell,” Nick greeted sweetly. The green suited her. The length was tempting.

“What are you supposed to be?” she glared.

“A detective,” he replied smugly.

“Not very original,” she crossed her arms.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

“You better,” she accepted his kiss.

She decorated the yard as a friendly competition with Monroe – though they both took it too far. She took it a notch higher with some festive music, an actual caldron with some bubbling effect, and subtle magic tricks that look like expensive effects. A hovering broomstick and chair that rocked by ‘itself’’? Monroe called it cheating – Adalind disagreed.

Superstition kicked off the playlist, playing loudly from the porch to lure kids into the makeshift graveyard.

“Good luck,” he bid with another kiss.

“You two have fun!” she smiled, and then gleamed at Kelly. “You’re so adorable,” she cooed.

“_Why_,” Nick mouthed though his ‘annoyed’ façade slipped easily whenever the boy looked up at his father. Nick preened, happy to spend time with his son.

“I think the whole matching costumes is fantastic,” she goaded. “Look at my two Grimms!”

Kelly dressed up in a large cloak with a looming hood. A plastic scythe in one hand and a glowing pumpkin bucket in the other. Nick didn’t dress up aside from his usual, casual attire.

“Baby Grimm,” she began, “and Grown up Grimm!” she cheered.

“Speaking of the little ones…. I think we got a few more witches this way,” Nick spied from afar.

“I’ll prepare the brew,” she joked. “Now go,” she urged. “Get the good candy and collect some heads in necessary.”

“Yes, Mom!” Kelly perked.

“No heads – just snickers,” Nick patted his back.

“Some twizzlers for me, please!” she requested.

“Okay,” Kelly beamed. “Love you!”

“Love you, too, Kelly,” she knelt down to kiss his cheek. “Don’t run off and make sure your Dad knows where you are at all times.”

“But Halloween is about scares,” Kelly teased.

“Not those kinds of scares,” Nick pressed sternly. “Especially tonight.”

“Wesen prowling freely,” Adalind mused. “Something wicked this way comes. Honestly though, you’re the scariest thing on this street,” she noted.

“Let’s hope,” Nick sighed. “Let’s leave the wicked witch to her evil schemes, shall we?” He prompted.

“Yeah!” Kelly agreed.

“Not too wicked,” Nick grinned.

“Always,” she smirked.


End file.
